DGM: Snow Kiss
by Lilac Lenalee
Summary: It's the middle of the night, and Lenalee can't seem to get to sleep. Snow begins to fall, and the feeling that she's not the only one awake grows along with coldness... LenaleexAllen oneshot.


**A/N:** Just a quick LenaleexAllen oneshot... I love em so much! Can't get enough! Please enjoy, and keep in mind this is very rough and was more of an improvisation kinda thing...

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_How cold is… cold?_

She stared out the ice-laced window, as if waiting for an answer. It was the middle of the night, that time when you just knew that people were asleep. Even if the sleep was fitful, or caught up in that immature state of REM, you still just knew. Knew that you were the only one playing the part of an insomniac. Or perhaps, flirting with the likes of insomnia. Either way, the deafening stillness throbbed, and you just knew that you were alone in the world of reality. No dreams sending your witty childhood pleasures into an orgasm, no nightmares indoctrinating your senses with their oh so believable propaganda. Just the company of reality, potent, dense, and silent.

Shyly, with reasonless caution, Lenalee touched the window, the tip of her finger giving birth to a succulent blot of heat as her body transfused its own into the window's lifelessly cold glass. She let her finger slide down, down, down, forming a line that looked like it wanted to be straight but it wasn't, until her finger bumped against the bottom of the window pane, stunned into stillness.

_How cold is cold?_

If she focused her eyes in just the right way, squinting in a semi-relaxed fashion, she was able to see her blank, questioning face. It didn't hide the fact that it was being robbed of sleep; her eyes resembled fake crystals, shimmering with an artificial, ingenuine shine and her hair hung like motionless rain. A weight filled her body, a weight similar to when one is freed from anaesthetic's hypnosis and the body feels all disorientated and squeamishly still. Yet the lullaby sung by her blood, the cradling of her body by her skin, nothing could quite send her into that world with fence-jumping sheep.

Again, she pressed a finger into the sparkling mist crocheting the glass's surface; the warmth sucked right out of her finger, injecting itself like a vaccine into the infectious fog that shrouded the window, slowly curing it of its translucency. Lenalee suddenly found herself tracing a question mark atop the window, its shape black with night time paint as winter's breath outlined it coldly. She added the final dot at the bottom, the strap to her pyjama tank toppling down the slope of her shoulder with a floppy sigh. She felt so vulnerable. And cold.

That claustrophobic feeling of being pressed by night's density, that sensation of knowing no one else was awake, it had suddenly changed, suddenly become much more subjective in feeling… perhaps someone had awoken.

Lenalee continued to illustrate the window with markings of dreamy purposelessness.

"How cold is… cold?"

The window looked at her, unsure. Snowflakes were starting to freckle its exterior, frosting the surface in winter's chilly array of sequins. Lenalee let the entire palm of her hand slide across the glass, creating a gaping smear of translucency. The coldness suctioned to her skin, tearing up into moisture as her heat immigrated into the flat depths of the window.

_How cold—_

"… is cold?"

Her answer slapped itself across her cheeks, sending them into a blushing fit of furiously warm chills; two hands were now suctioned against her cheeks, draining all warmth from them like a pair of heat slurping vampires.

"Did that answer your question?"

Lenalee's last flicker of body heat evaporated as she recognized who had just spoken to her: Allen Walker.

Giving a little huff, she squirmed her way out of his icy grasp, swiftly smacking her own freezing hands overtop his unsuspecting cheeks before he could even hope to retaliate with a comeback.

"Don't scare me like that!" Lenalee tried to pull off a genuinely pissed expression, but staring into Allen's blinking, completely unsure-of-what-to-do-next face was enough to send her into a not so quiet fit of giggles. Allen laughed along with her, although Lenalee could tell he didn't exactly know why he was laughing.

Eventually the fact that it was the middle of the night and that people were trying to sleep lowered their voices back to an acceptable volume.

"It's really cold," Lenalee blurted, thoughtlessly.

"It is really cold."

"And you should be asleep."

"_You_ should be asleep."

She let her back slant against the window's freezing surface, skin sliding down it with a delicious groan until her butt hit the floor; she motioned for Allen to sit next to her.

The delicate softness of her skin stuck dryly to the ice-kissed glass behind her, making her spine shiver with a rapturous jolt. The meek warmth of Allen's body squeezed beside her, timid yet tempting; she scuttled just a teensy bit closer to him.

They remained that way for a while, quietly listening to the snow's mesmerizing orchestration, before Allen shifted slightly.

"Something wrong?"

"Well, I was just thinking," Allen whispered thoughtfully, his eyes twinkling beneath the gaze of the snow-assaulted night. "Mana used to say friction was the best way to ease the cold."

Lenalee turned her head slightly, enough so that she could see the dove-white tips of his hair near the horizon of her eyes. "Nii-san always told me that body heat was the best combatant against cold."

Awkwardly, but with an awkwardness that was as gentle as snow cuddling the crevices of a windowpane, Lenalee and Allen twined their arms around each other with implicit synchronicity. Their body heat instantly began to collaborate, surging and swelling, nauseously replicating the feeling one has when about to vomit yet in a way that was unexpectedly satisfying.

"See?" Lenalee breathed, her senses becoming intoxicated into a drunken stupor as she overdosed on Allen's devilishly sweet scent. "Body heat works really well."

Allen's hands began rubbing back and forth across Lenalee's upper body, producing a velvety prickle of heat that made it blush warmly. "So does friction."

Her grip became more relaxed, lazily wrapped around Allen's body as he continued to comfortably embrace her. Sleep was threatening to conquer her, but the ever so delicate, barely there throbbing of Allen's heart managed to lull her into a dazed state of awakeness. The coldness she had felt before seemed so antiquely distant…

"Allen-kun?"

"Yeah?"

"How cold is cold?"

The environment surrounding them, enveloping them into their invisible little chamber against the window, was dense with the feeling of drowsiness, as if assuring the two that they were the only ones rebelling the imperialistic intentions of sleep.

"I guess you can't really know until it's replaced by warmth."

"Then what is warmth? How do you know that something is warm when—"

The entire world curdled into a dizzying cyclone, a swirling, paradoxical blizzard of hot and cold as the soft warmth of Allen's lips pressed gently into Lenalee's. His body heat, she could…. she could taste it. It was such a pure and fragile flavor, housing a spicy sort of immaturity that eventually developed into a mature wave of warmth as the kiss melted into a deeper, more intimate exchange. It was a sensation Lenalee had never experienced before, the wordless game of lip show and tell. The coldness fingering her back, creeping across her body as her tank slunk lower and lower down her chest, became nothing more than mere background inconveniences, trivial discomforts that failed miserably in stopping her from devouring the rich warmth of mouth to mouth contact.

They pulled apart from each other with deliberate slowness, the magnetic softness of their lips keeping them together for a split second longer then they should've. At that point, the snow outside seemed to be nothing but a mockery, a wannabe waterfall of airy ice crystals, fuzzy tears caught between the suspension of time and the influence of gravity. Everything had adopted a delicate warmness about it, making the cold seem like a narcissist of reality.

"Do you get it now?" Allen directed the words more to his hands then to Lenalee, bangs slinging across his face so as to cover his eyes. An aurora of blush colored his face.

Lenalee grabbed his hand in hers and, with newfound gentleness, placed it atop her cheek. "Yes."

_How cold is cold?_

…

… _only as cold as warmth allowed it to be._

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**A/N: **Hope you enjoyed minna! Remember... really, really rough... and most likely crappy... oh well! All reviews and/or faves are greatly appreciated!


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